The Unthinkable
by D.D.Darkwriter
Summary: Just a little story I made up. Mort gets a little taste of bondage, S&M Mort X Shooter.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

This fic was a request from someone. I have decided to make this one first. I have like two other ones. But anyway, here is this one. I would like to say something, but I forgot. Oh well.

Chapter one: The unthinkable

Mort woke up to a sound of breathing. He opened his eyes. He saw someone over him. It took him a while to realize that it was Shooter. Shooter loomed over his body and said, "Mm, good morning beautiful."

Mort gave a yell. He flung himself up and tried to get Shooter off of him. He couldn't do it though. Instead Shooter took something that had been clutched into his hand. He then gave a smile and said, "Now, do ya want ta be a 'and full, or do ya want to come easily?"

Mort gave a nod, "Go to hell." He looked at the angered look on the face of the man on the bed with him. The man brought his hand up quickly and then stabbed Mort in the neck with a needle. The needle injected something into the man's body. Mort began to feel dizzy. He felt so dizzy. He let his head fall down onto the pillow. He felt like sleeping. Shooter took the needle out Mort's neck. He let his head fall back. Mort moaned with tiredness. He felt his eye lids get so heavy.

Shooter watched as the man fell asleep below him. He felt himself becoming overjoyed about how his plan was working out. Shooter picked him up. He was gentle. He carried Mort down the stairs. He could feel the warm breath coming out of Mort's mouth as he carried him. He could feel the heart beat. So even. It seemed to be beating just for him. Shooter gave himself a silent smile. He rounded one of the corners. The staircase held a door in it. Shooter struggled a little with the door. He turned it though and got in. He turned on the light that hung from the ceiling. It revealed a large, yet small closet. He set down the sleeping man in his arms. He then tore down the clothes that hung inside of it. He banged on something and another door slid open. It opened with a creak. Shooter flicked on a light switch and then looked down. There were stairs. Shooter picked up the man and began to swiftly descend the stairs.

When he reached to bottom he looked around. The basement seemed to have nothing but ungodly things in it. S&M seemed to rule this area of the house. Shooter smiled as he looked at one of the walls. There was a pair of shackles. They hung off of the wall and looked to be ready to hold anyone. Shooter picked up the man he held up higher and began to shackle him up. He put his wrists through it and then locked them tight. He grinned at the man before him. Mort's feet reached the ground, so it would take some of the pain and weight off of his arms and wrists. Shooter just smiled and walked away, waiting for when Mort would wake up and he would lay a torture on him like none other.

Mort woke with a jolt of pain coming up and down his arms. He looked around. He had no clue where he was. He figured that it was a basement though. He noticed all of the toys, and the very erotic things. He felt a tinge of kinkiness. He heard a door slam shut. He turned his head to the side. He saw stairs. But more so, he saw Shooter.

Shooter gave a smile to the man on the wall an said, "Wake? Glad ta see ya okay there…" He walked up to Mort. He looked him up and down, as if taking in everything he was, everything he is. He wanted it. He wanted to be a part of it. He gave a sigh.

Mort cringed, "Take me down. This is stupid. And how did you get this? What the hell is this place?"

"It is a relaxation area. I come here often. This was always here, ya just never looked. Ya are always just too busy with your stupid books. Your fake fairy tales. Ya need ta relax mate." He came closer. He brushed his hand up against Mort's thigh.

Mort felt the warmth of the hand and gave a slight moan. "Let me go."

Shooter gave a smirk. He took out a knife. He brought it up to Mort's face. Then, slowly he dragged it down to his chest. Mort thought that he was about to get cut into many little insignificant little pieces. But, instead, Shooter cut the shirt Mort had been wearing.

Mort gave a slight gasp when the metal hit his flesh. He could feel and hear the shirt on his chest tare, and come off. Shooter looked at the nicely shaved chest. He had known all of the time that Mort liked to keep his chest clean. He thought that it made him look sexy. The women seemed to love it anyway. Shooter also knew some other stuff that Mort would pray Shooter would never find out. Well, Shooter knew. And Shooter knew just what Mort could get hard off of.

Shooter pressed his body up against Mort's, taking his own shirt off. Smooth skin felt up smooth skin. He put his mouth at the nape of Mort's neck. He breathed ever so slowly onto the skin. Mort gave a moan. Then, Shooter began to lightly lick the neck. Mort gave a small squeal of approval. Shooter kept his hands roving all over Mort. One hand making sure to touch the bulged. He was provoking the bulge to grow, to become firm. He gave a smile under the kiss he placed on the neck.

Shooter slowly took off Mort's pants. He wanted to make sure that nothing was in his way. He ripped them off very violently. He earned a very nervous cry from the man before him. He went back to him. He looked down, "Well someone is happy to see me."

Mort blushed like a red rose covered in blood. He tried to look away from himself, and Shooter, but found he could not. For when he did so, what happened was Shooter pulled his chin back to his own mouth and then locked lips. He forced both of their tongues to battle over the area that had just been penetrated. He was taking off his own pants. He felt the erection being held back by the trouble some fabric.

Mort gave a small gasp when he felt the skin of the south press onto him. He shuddered, but was soon stopped when he felt something probe at his butt. The finger slid in, and soon after, another was added. He breathed hard into Shooter's mouth. He wanted so much for those damned shackles to be gone. But, they didn't leave, they stayed.

Shooter began to take the fingers in and out more forcefully. Then, he took them out all together. He then picked up Mort's legs and asked him, "Are you ready?"

Mort gave a fumble of words, "No…"

Shooter smiled, "Good." He then pushed into Mort. Mort gave a small scream, as he was thruster into. He was silenced though by Shooter's lips again. He could feel every move that Shooter made. His legs were at Shooter's sides, being held up by him. He was arched forward because he was shackled to the wall.

Shooter's thrusts became more and more heavy, and violent. He could hear the moans from Mort. Mort could hear the breaths and grunts from Shooter. Shooter came closer and closer to the point of his climax.

Mort wanted badly to grab hold of himself, or have Shooter grab hold of him. Then again, he felt as if he was being ripped apart from the inside out.

Finally, both of them cam. Mort bursting onto Shooter's chest. Shooter bursting into Mort's ass. Shooter eased out of Mort. He listened to the sound of Mort as he did so.

Mort gave a look at Shooter, his tiredness was coming onto him again. He felt totally exhausted. He looked at him, "Can I go now?"

Shooter looked at him, "No, not yet." His smile made his sinister look even more deadly and cunningly. Mort shivered, as he knew that he would probably never be let go from the crazed man in front of him.

End.

Well, that was nice, wasn't it? I hope all of you girls and boys out there liked it. I know there is a certain reader that does. Haha. Well, I am out for now. Hope you liked.

-D.D.Darkwriter

Silence is the bliss of love. Just like a rose coated in poison, when you touch it, you die.


End file.
